"You don't have any food allergies, right? I told her no, but she won't shut up until I ask you. She said better safe than sorry," Noah said on the other end of the line.
"Nope, I have an iron stomach." I smiled as I pictured Noah's mother busying herself over the stove for 'her boys,' as she called us.
'Us' being Noah and Noah. Yes, we have the same first name. And we even kind of look alike. Okay, not kind of... we do look alike. Not identical, but it's enough that it compels people with poor social graces to ask if we're brothers.
No. We're not related. It had really bothered me when people had the gall ask us that, in public. It'd never bothered Noah. But it once happened while we were
holding hands
. I still don't know if the person who asked that was genuinely curious, or just rudely pointing it out to us.
Annoying questions aside, we did acknowledge at the beginning of our relationship that we looked alike, had the same name, and it was kind of weird. We didn't psychoanalyze it though. We laughed about it, and then it disappeared from our relationship, and was never a problem. I called him Noah, he called me Noah, and we had our nicknames too.
"That's exactly what I said." He laughed. "I'll tell her again." I heard him put down the phone to yell at his mom through the house. "NOAH SAID NO!"
He picked back up, I thought I heard him gulp, and his voice got lower. "Hey, baby, so, I, uh... you think I could try topping you tonight?"
I winced. I'd tried bottoming only once, years before we met. I wasn't able to relax, so I didn't enjoy it. When Noah and I began dating, he knew this, and said he loved bottoming for me. It became the norm. But he said he wanted to fuck me eventually. And he'd been asking with increasing frequency. Our six-month anniversary had just passed, so I knew it was past time to give it up. I took a deep breath.
"Okay, yeah," I breathed out. Despite myself, I began grinning from the idea, and couldn't hide the sound of it from my voice. "You can fuck me tonight."
I heard a smile mirroring mine as he inhaled sharply and said, "Fuck yes, baby. You're gonna love it. I can't wait. I've got lube and poppers. It's gonna feel so good."
"Just promise you'll go easy on me," I said. "Treat my hole like a virgin, 'cause it's been years. Not even a finger."
"No promises," he said, with a chuckle.
I laughed nervously, we said bye, and hung up.
I took one more hit from the bong, to get rid of my anxiety, then stood up from the couch. Oops. I was too stoned. I began stripping off my clothes as I went to the bathroom for a shower.
I stopped at the mirror. Damn, I looked good. I started checking myself out.
My dark brown hair was longer on top, buzzed on the sides near my neck, with a fade up. I had bright, silvery-blue eyes that made girls fall for me throughout grade school. My beard was short and trimmed, and added even more angle to my jawline, which I was already proud of. I had a killer smile, with straight, white, shiny teeth. My torso was lean-muscular from regular running and working out. Moderate chest hair, and a happy trail that covered my six-pack abs and led the way to every man's most precious bits.
I kept my pubes trimmed short, and my big balls completely hairless -- because Noah loved sucking on them. My dick hung four inches soft, and was about seven inches hard. Average to above-average thickness. I'd been told by more than a few guys that I have 'boyfriend dick.' It was a compliment most times, I think.
As I turned to step into the shower, I couldn't help but notice my ass. That bubble butt that I did so many squats at the gym to maintain. I couldn't blame Noah for pining after it. I squeezed my cheeks to feel the muscles. They were firm but soft, like newly ripe peaches. And a layer of soft, fuzzy hair to match.
I faced the mirror again and marveled at my appearance. I was so good looking. I made a mental note to thank my parents for the genes.
I'd fuck me. And I was getting fucked tonight. Would it be uncomfortable like my first-and-only time? Noah seemed to love it. And our dicks were almost exactly the same in size and shape. He took it like a champ that first time -- with nothing but my spit as lube. That was the night I fell in love with him, not only for the fantastic sex, but for the connection I felt.
I looked at the time on my phone. Shit, I'd wasted ten minutes fucking around and staring at myself in the mirror. The dinner was in less than an hour.
I stepped into the shower and let the hot water pour down my head, over my body, and relax my muscles. My stoned thoughts wandered away again, and I remembered meeting Noah...
...
It was six months earlier; we were twenty and twenty-one, he being slightly older. We met at a party near our college campus. Everyone was drinking and smoking. Noah and I kept looking at each other through the haze. As we went along with the flow of the crowd, through the living room, kitchen, patio, and into the night, we found ourselves kissing sloppily in the host's upstairs bathroom.
The stranger was running his hands up my shirt as we made out. I squeezed and manipulated his ass cheeks, pulling them apart. He whimpered into my mouth a little each time I let go, like he didn't want me to stop. My horny, drunk, caveman brain told me I'd scored, and found a hungry bottom at that party full of straight people.
His hands wandered down my body until he was rubbing my dick through my pants.
"Fuck, I can't take it anymore," he groaned, as he bent down and began undoing my pants. It had only been like ten seconds, but I leaned back against the sink, and let the handsome stranger from the party downstairs do his thing.
He pulled my clothes down in one swipe and fell backwards when my hard dick surprised him with a whack to the face. He grimaced in pain and rubbed the back of his head, which had smacked against the wall.
I stifled a laugh as I helped him up. "Shit, are you alright? You okay...? Damn, my dick isn't THAT big," I teased.
He was flushed red with embarrassment, fading lust, and whatever he'd drank throughout the night.
"I'm fine, doesn't hurt, just lost my balance, I'm just drunk," he said quickly, without looking at me. He rubbed his head awkwardly and glanced around the bathroom like he didn't know what to do next. I grabbed his wrist, pulled him close again, and returned my hands to his firm ass.